


those three words (are said too much)

by very_important_army



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Basketball player Yifan, Byun Baekhee - Freeform, Childhood Friends, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Idols!CBX, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Kim Jungdae, Kim Junhee, Kim Minseon, Manager Junhee, Mentions of Chanyeol Kyungsoo and Zhang PD, referenced transphobia, trans!Minseok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24362746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/very_important_army/pseuds/very_important_army
Summary: “Say it,” Junhee chants inside her mind. “Say that you don’t want me to leave.”In which the only thing Junhee wants is to hear those three words from her girlfriend.
Relationships: Kim Jongdae | Chen/Kim Minseok | Xiumin, Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Wu Yi Fan | Kris
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37
Collections: CHERRYKISSES FEST (Round 1)





	those three words (are said too much)

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is officially the longest fic I've ever written. Thank you to the cherry kisses mods for giving me like a billion extensions, but I' m glad I pushed it out on time! 
> 
> Written for Kiss #128 for the Cherry Kisses fest! 
> 
> CW: There are elements of homophobia/transphobia in the fic, though not from any of the EXO characters.

“You’re home!” Junhee looks up from where she’s curled up in her favorite armchair, a worn down copy of a manga in her hands. She drops the book to the side and stands up, smiling at an exhausted Yifan, who drops her duffel bag to the ground with a muted thud. 

“Yeah,” Yifan smiles slightly. “Sorry, practice ran late.” 

“Missed you,” Junhee wraps her arms around her taller girlfriend’s waist, planting her face against her chest. 

“I’m all sweaty,” Yifan chuckles, but holds Junhee closer indulgently anyway. Junhee snuggles closer, inhaling deeply. Despite what Yifan might think, she doesn’t really stink when she sweats. In fact, her natural scent is just amplified, something pleasantly musky with the faint floral notes of Yifan’s favorite deodorant, and it’s Junhee’s favorite scent in the world. 

“I love you,” Junhee says into the cloth of Yifan’s basketball jersey.

Yifan’s arms squeeze around her gently, and she feels a soft pressure on top of her head, before Yifan’s arms fall. “I’m going to shower. You should sleep, you have work tomorrow morning.” 

Junhee nods sleepily. It is already quite late, and honestly Junhee should’ve been asleep hours ago. But she hates sleeping without her girlfriend, and so she was nursing a cup of tea before bed, trying to stay awake until Yifan came home. 

“Will you tuck me in?” 

“Sure,” Yifan smiles. Junhee crawls into bed, letting Yifan fold the covers around her and tuck them underneath her chin. 

“Good night, Fan, I love you.”

“Good night, baby, sweet dreams.” Her footsteps fade away as she pads to the bathroom, and Junhee closes her eyes and lets the muted rush of water lull her to sleep.

Her bed is a little cold that night, but it’s okay, Junhee reasons. Yifan will be back soon. 

\--

Yifan is still fast asleep when Junhee’s alarm rings, long limbs sprawled everywhere. Junhee inches out from underneath her arm, quickly shutting off her alarm. She pulls on her favorite blouse, the pale blue one that Yifan bought for her birthday, and a pair of black slacks before heading out to her office. 

“Oh, noona!” A tall man with prominent ears stops Junhee when she walks out of the elevator. 

“Good morning, Chanyeol,” Junhee greets. 

“Noona, the boss wants you in his office! I think we’re going to debut a new group soon.” The producer grins widely, showing off all his perfect little teeth. “Good luck, Junhee-

noona!” He says as the elevator door closes behind him. Junhee heads towards Yixing’s office. 

“Zhang PD, you wanted to see me?” Junhee knocks against the open office door. The producer-turned-CEO looks up from his keyboard. 

“Ah, yes, have a seat! Aiyowei, now where did I put those papers?” He shuffles through the music sheets on his desk before unearthing a thick manilla folder. “Have you met CBX?” 

“Uh…”

“Chen, Baekhee, Xiumin.”

“I know Baekhee…?”

Yixing laughs. “Chen will be Jungdae and Xiumin will be Minseon.”

“Oh! Yes, I know of them.” 

“We’ll be debuting them as our newest girl group, and you’ll be their manager for the time being. Here are their files, and you have a meeting with them later today!”

Junhee picks up the folder, flipping through pages on her way to her desk as Yixing resumes messing away with his music software. 

\--

The three girls sit in front of Junhee politely, but there’s a quiet determination in the eyes of the girl who sits in the middle. Her lips are curled, cheekbones so defined they could cut glass, jet black hair reaching her shoulders. Though she’s dressed casually in thin sweatpants and a casual t-shirt, there’s no denying her gorgeous figure, effortlessly slender. Jungdae. 

Baekhee is on her right, pink streaks in her light brown hair, lightly curled. She’s dressed in a v-neck blouse and a cute skirt. When she meets Junhee’s eyes, she flashes a playful, boxy smile, eyes alight with unplanned mischief. This one will be a handful, Junhee knows that already. 

The girl on Jungdae’s left is perhaps the most timid. She’s half hiding behind Jungdae, peering up at Junhee with catlike eyes and round cheeks. Her hair is cut short in a shaggy pixie cut, and as Junhee watches, one small hand comes up to tug at her ends, as if trying to stretch them out longer. Her other hand is enclosed in Jungdae’s tight grip. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Junhee says, to break the silence. Unsurprisingly, Baekhee is the first to speak up. 

“Hi, pretty unnie! It’s my _pleasure_ to meet you.” Junhee chuckles. Figures that Baekhee is the flirty one. Said trainee tosses her hair behind her back and crosses her slender legs, eyelashes batting dramatically. Jungdae’s posture softens a little as she side-eyes her group member, huffing out an exasperated laugh. 

“Byun Baekhee, where is your shame?” Jungdae scolds. 

“What is shame when you’re in front of pretty women?” Baekhee retorts. “Unnie, will you go on a date with me?”

“I don’t think my girlfriend would appreciate that,” Junhee replies, amused. Baekhee really is a breath of fresh air, though Junhee has an inkling that she’s going to lose lots of hair chasing after this wild soul. 

“Damn, all the pretty ones are taken,” Baekhee pouts, slumping over. Jungdae laughs, but her shoulders seem to have relaxed somewhat. 

“Minseon and I are dating,” Jungdae blurts out. “We don’t intend to break up even after debut. You’ll just have to deal with it.” She puffs out her chest, but fear is back in her eyes, in the way she nibbles on her lip, in the way her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrow to form a small mountain. Minseon’s hand comes up to nervously rub against her neck. 

“Oh.” Junhee blinks. “Err, that’s fine with me. I don’t have a problem with it.” 

Minseon and Jungdae sigh in unison. Minseon’s smile is gummy and sweet, and makes her look years younger — even though according to the thick stack of files in Junhee’s lap, she’s the oldest. 

“Okay, so it seems like Zhang PD intends Minseon to be the leader—” 

“Why not me?” Baekhee interjects. “I’d make a great leader.”

“Shut up, Baekhee!” Jungdae shoves her shoulder. “You’re too chaotic.”

“Are you sure that I’ll be okay as the leader?” Minseon asks. She fiddles with the hem of her baggy sweatshirt.

“Of course!” Jungdae exclaims fiercely. “I’ll listen to everything you say, Minseon!”

This makes Minseon smile fondly. “That’s a lie, you brat,” she says, prodding her finger in the middle of Jungdae’s forehead. 

“Ah, why’d you do that?” Jungdae whines, but she’s beaming brightly. Her eyes crinkle, revealing endearing smiling creases, and the curl of her thin lips becomes even more pronounced. 

Baekhee is gagging dramatically off to the side, but her boxy grin reveals her true feelings. Junhee smiles, feeling good about the dynamics of the group. 

“Well, you ladies better get back to practicing Blooming Day. Your debut date is near!” 

\--

Junhee opens the door, and for once, Yifan is at home. 

“Hey, babe,” Junhee kisses her girlfriend on the cheek. “No practice today?” 

“Welcome home,” Yifan smiles at Junhee. “I’m making dinner.”

Junhee looks at the counter. Shards of egg shells are all over the surface. Rice grains are littered around the large mixing bowl, and there’s some kind of suspicious white paste smeared across the granite. 

“Sweetheart,” Junhee begins, “what are you making?” 

“Egg fried rice!” Yifan’s smile turns sheepish. “Err, I know it looks like a mess right now, but I promise I’ll clean it up!”

“I can finish up here, if you’d like,” Junhee offers. She loves Yifan, really, but her girlfriend’s long limbs and large hands make it pretty difficult for her to handle anything but a basketball with grace. As she watches, Yifan stirs whatever’s in the mixing bowl with a wooden spoon so vigorously that more yellowish rice grains fly out. 

“No, you always make dinner for us even though I know you don’t really like cooking either. You go sit your pretty self down and relax until I tell you it’s time to eat!” 

Junhee flushes happily. She hops onto the barstool and rests her head on her elbows, watching Yifan bustle around the kitchen. Her girlfriend’s tongue is poked out in concentration. She’s a little too tall for their tiny kitchenette, so Yifan has to hunch over a little, but her long arms easily reach all the condiments that she needs without even needing to take a step. It’s endearing, really, the way Junhee’s sweet gangly girlfriend fumbles around the kitchen. 

Yifan has never really liked spending time indoors, shunning all the typical domestic womanly roles like cooking or sewing. Even since she was young, when she and Junhee were neighbors, Yifan would always be outside, shooting hoops. Junhee would be able to see Yifan’s backyard from the window in her room. Six-year-old Junhee would be drawing a picture while six-year-old Yifan ran around on her chubby little legs, chasing her dog gleefully. Her long black hair, kept long by her mother, whipped behind her. 

Junhee smiles fondly, remembering when fifteen-year-old Yifan had finally had enough, and chopped off her waist length hair to just above her shoulders, just long enough to tie back to keep out of her face.

That was the first time Junhee’s heart fluttered. 

Yifan had hit her growth sprout much earlier than Junhee had. At the age of fifteen, she already towered over Junhee, and much of the baby fat on her cheeks had melted away. She was, to say the least, intimidating — fierce eyebrows, an unreadable poker face, complete disinterest in any class she was in. But Junhee knew better. 

She had seen the pure happiness written across Yifan’s face as she excitedly dragged Junhee to the basketball court after school, pleading with her to play with her. Junhee failed spectacularly, of course, but it was all worth it to hear the joy in Yifan’s laughter when Junhee’s pathetic attempt at a shot met nothing but air. 

Sometimes Junhee wonders how they became friends. Young Junhee who spent hours brushing her hair until it was silky smooth. Young Junhee, who would’ve much rather stayed inside to pore through her booklets of sheet music rather than deal with any sport that involved a ball. Young Junhee, who was too shy to even stand next to other children her age, content to watch from afar as Yifan handled the basketball with far more grace than any other eleven-year old. 

But against all odds, Junhee and Yifan were the best of friends.

“Good thing Yifan is here to bring Junhee outside for some fresh air and vitamin D,” Junhee’s father used to say. “I’m afraid that the girl is going to grow up to be a vampire if it weren’t for Yifan.”

“I’m so glad Junhee is Yifan’s anchor,” Yifan’s mother would say in reply. “My daughter needs to slow down before she hurts herself.”

At some point, Yifan became more than just her basketball loving neighbor, more than her free-spirited best friend. One day, Junhee woke up, Yifan’s sleeping face breathing slowly and steadily in front of her, her thick eyebrows smooth and relaxed, and Junhee’s breath had caught in her throat. Her fingers had twitched, yearning to comb out Yifan’s wild hair that had gotten completely mussed during their play fighting, as with every biweekly sleepover of theirs. At some point, Yifan became the most important person in her life. 

She had fallen hard for Yifan’s soothing voice, so much deeper and calmer than anyone else she knows. She had fallen for the way Yifan’s smile showed just a bit more gum when directed at Junhee than anyone else, like she was sharing a secret meant only for her. She even loved Yifan’s wacky sense of fashion that swings wildly between the form of huge fluffy dramatic coats and casual laid-back sports jerseys. 

Junhee was seventeen when she realized what that feeling meant. That ball of nerves that settled in her throat when Yifan smiled that gummy smile at her secretively from across the classroom. That urge to grip tighter onto Yifan’s warm hand when she led her to the basketball court. The desire to bury her face into Yifan’s neck as the taller girl holds her in the warmest hug. Junhee knew she was in love, when she realized she wanted nothing more but to stay by Yifan’s side for the rest of her life. 

“Yifan,” Junhee had finally choked out when she was twenty-one. She was slightly tipsy, wrapped up in Yifan's warm embrace in the dead of night. It was the night before Junhee’s twenty second birthday, and Yifan had taken her out for some fresh air. The rustle of the party still echoes mutedly behind them, but the sound of Yifan’s steady breathing is louder. Junhee leans her head on Yifan’s shoulder. “Yifan, I want to be your girlfriend.”

Underneath her body, Junhee had felt Yifan stiffen. The words continued pouring out. 

“I want to hold you and kiss you and wake up to your face every morning. I want to hear about what makes you sad and what makes you happy, and everything in between. I want to be yours, Yifan,” Junhee had babbled, barely conscious of the words spilling out of her mouth.

Yifan had remained still for two long seconds after Junhee’s words trailed into the empty silence of the starry night, before her arms came up to wrap silently around Junhee’s shoulders. Her arms were long enough to comfortably wrap around Junhee’s thin shoulders and overlap, and Junhee snuggled further into Yifan’s chest. Despite the taller girl’s consistently active lifestyle, her body is soft, toned muscles hidden beneath soft skin and thick sweatshirts. 

“Okay.” Yifan’s voice was soft. 

“Okay?” Junhee blinked blearily, the unexpected response processing slowly in her hazy mind. 

Yifan merely hummed. 

“You’re not just saying that?” Junhee had scrambled around to face Yifan, who looked at her with an expression largely unreadable, but still infinitely tender.

Junhee hadn’t yet known this side of Yifan — the affectionate, romantic side, the side that comes out only in the presence of her lover — so when Yifan’s lips came to gently slot against her own, long lashes fluttering as her eyes slid shut, Junhee could only gasp into the kiss before reciprocating with enthusiasm, her fists balling up into the fabric of Yifan’s shirt. 

“Junhee? Why are you smiling like that?” 

Junhee blinks. Yifan is standing in front of her, a dish of what looks like yellow paste with lumps of unidentified meat mixed in cradled in her oven-mitted hands. She grins sheepishly when Junhee meets her eyes and sets the dish gingerly on the table. “I um, kind of burned the pork. But hopefully it’s still okay?” 

Junhee beams, and hands over her empty rice bowl when Yifan gestures for it. Yifan carefully spoons out a generous portion for Junhee, eyebrows furrowed in utter concentration, before grabbing her own bowl and haphazardly slapping some into her bowl. 

“Try it,” Yifan encourages, watching Junhee slip the first bite into the mouth. 

Oh, dear. 

The texture is more slimy than rice has any right to be, with an unpleasant charred flavor that threatens to choke Junhee. There’s also the occasional small unidentifiable piece that’s unnervingly crunchy that burrows into the gaps between her teeth. Junhee swallows harshly, fighting to keep a poker face. 

“It’s...perfectly seasoned,” Junhee offers, taking a sip of water to hide the hoarseness of her throat. 

Yifan’s bright grin is worth it, Junhee thinks. Who needs lights when you have Yifan’s smile? They could really be saving on their electricity bill.

As Junhee chugs the rest of her water, she hears a gag from across the table.

“Junhee!” Yifan protests, aghast. “This is terrible!” She looks a mixture of horrified and betrayed, staring down at her spoon in disbelief. Junhee can’t help it. She bursts into peals of laughter, sliding over to wrap herself around Yifan’s arm and pressing her face against Yifan’s shoulder, muffling her giggles against her girlfriend’s skin. 

Yifan sighs. “Sorry, Junhee, I didn’t mean to poison you.” She sounds so glum that Junhee instinctively squeezes her tighter. 

“It’s okay, I love you,” Junhee chirps against Yifan’s skin. Yifan’s lips come to land on her temple, curved into a gentle smile. 

Junhee holds her girlfriend closer and tries not to question the silence that follows her statement. 

It’s okay. Yifan does love her. Even if she doesn’t say it. Right?

She’s not very successful, evidently. 

\--

“Let’s go on a date, Yifan,” Junhee says. She’s cuddled up with her girlfriend on the couch, 100 Days My Prince on the screen in front of them. Yifan is chomping on buttered popcorn by the handful, more focused on the snacks than the drama playing in front of them. 

“Where do you want to go?” 

“Maybe the movies?” 

“How is that any different than what we’re doing now?” Yifan points out. “You’re not even watching the drama.” 

Junhee pouts. “I just want to go out.”

Yifan brings one large hand up to stroke Junhee’s hair. Her palm is warm, radiating through Junhee’s hair, and Junhee turns her head so that Yifan’s hand rests on the skin of her cheek. 

“Okay then.” Yifan’s voice is low, gentle. “We’ll go out.”

Yifan picks her up after work the next day. Her girlfriend had broken out the designer brands, sitting in the driver’s seat decked out in LV and Burberry, Ray-Bans perched on her sculpted nose. It’s such a far cry from her usual casual athletic wear that Junhee’s heart does a funny little tumble in her chest and her breath catches in her throat, and she swallows hard. 

Yifan is so, so pretty that sometimes Junhee wonders what she did to be lucky enough to call Yifan her girlfriend. 

They pull into a small lot next to the Han River. Night has settled at this point, and the city lights glisten off the water, throwing a myriad of colors and indistinguishable shapes into a beautiful pattern that ripples through the river. 

“The parking lot is so full,” Yifan comments, inching slowly past the rows of parked cars and craning her neck higher to see past them. Junhee is jealous, she can’t see anything past the 3 cars in front of her. She looks out the window, jutting out her lower lip, before gasping loudly in excitement, jabbing her finger harshly against the glass.

“There!” There’s a spot tucked into the corner of the lot, and Yifan signals before preparing to reverse into position. Junhee squirms a little in her seat with glee. 

“Oh!” Yifan slams hard on the brakes, jolting Junhee forward. Junhee chokes as the seat belt tightens uncomfortably. “Are you okay, Jun?” 

Junhee whips her head around to glare at the red BMW that just pulled into _their_ spot. “That was ours, Yifan! That bastard!” Junhee makes to get out of the car, ready to confront the model-esque man that just stepped out of the car, ready to punch him in his stupid face. 

A hand comes down to rest on Junhee’s knee. “Relax,” Yifan rumbles in that soothing drawl of hers. “Look, there’s a closer spot right there.” Yifan makes it into the space without hassle, and Junhee huffs the remaining frustration away in one short breath. 

Yifan twists around to reach into the backseat with her long arms, easily picking up a cooler that Junhee hadn’t noticed before. “Let’s go, baby.” She really does look like a model, the cooler strap slung on her right shoulder and her Balenciaga bag on her left. The streetlights beam down like a soft spotlight, and Junhee falls into step beside her, feeling woefully underdressed. 

Yifan leads them to a small worn path beside the river. Other couples linger around, strolling and chatting. Junhee can’t help but smile — it’s such a romantic atmosphere. Deliberately, she takes one diagonal step, pressing herself flush against Yifan’s side. Instantly, Yifan’s entire body stiffens.

“Uh, are you hungry, Junhee?” Yifan hurriedly nudges Junhee off the track to a patch of grass beside it.

“Um, a little?” Yifan unfolds a thick picnic blanket from her bag and unzips the cooler. Junhee looks closer. Yifan’s face is flushed. 

“Sit,” Yifan says, pulling out two lunch boxes. “I uh, didn’t cook this time.” Her girlfriend smiles sheepishly, lips drawing up to reveal endearingly pink gums. She opens one of the boxes to reveal beautifully rolled omelets and bulgogi kimbap. “And if you want, we can order chicken here!” 

“This is enough — thank you, Yifan.” Junhee scoots next to her girlfriend and sneaks her arms around Yifan’s shoulders, pressing her cheek into Yifan’s neck. Yifan squirms a little and stiffly winds her arms behind Junhee’s back.

It’s not right. 

Junhee thinks back on the countless times back home on their couch, where Yifan holds her close like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Her sharp chin would dig into Junhee’s flesh, but Junhee has learned to get used to Yifan's boniness — loves it, even, so it’s not a problem for her. Junhee’s always been more physically affectionate than Yifan, but she thought that it’s been long enough that even Yifan craves her touch. She’s learned that even skin and bone can be softened by love against her skin. 

It’s clearly not the case here, though.

Right now, Yifan’s arm is rigid around Junhee’s waist, almost awkward. Her lips are flattened into a thin, embarrassed line, gaze shifting back and forth between somewhere above Junhee’s head and the nearly deserted walking path a few feet away from where they’re sitting. Her shoulders are hunched, as if hiding from any potential passerby. Right now, Yifan feels as hard and unyielding as rock. Junhee sighs, leaning away from Yifan under the guise of reaching for another roll of kimbap. Almost immediately, Yifan’s shoulders sag, cheekbones glowing crimson as her gaze darts to the walkway once again. 

Junhee shoves the piece of kimbap into her mouth whole, trying to wash down the dread in her throat. 

\--

“That looks great!” Junhee cheers, standing up to clap enthusiastically. Jungdae, Minseon, and Baekhee are breathing heavily in their ending pose. Baekhee’s brown hair is partially covering her face, but not enough to hide the determined glint in her eyes. Jungdae and Minseon flanking behind her look just as fierce, holding their positions for one last beat, until they all relax at some unspoken signal. Baekhee’s smolder dissolves into a cheeky smile.

“So baby, can I be your girlfriend, can I?” She sings playfully, smirking at Junhee. 

Two can play at this game. “I think you should be asking Chanyeol that,” Junhee says breezily, trying not to laugh at the way Baekhee’s face instantly flushes tomato red. 

“I already have a girlfriend,” Jungdae announces smugly, linking her arm through Minseon’s. 

“Nobody asked,” Baekhee sniffs. 

“Okay,” Junhee says hastily, cutting off Jungdae’s responding whine before the two girls can start bickering again, “go rest up now. Your debut stage is tomorrow!” 

Soon-to-debut girl group CBX smiles back at her, faces full of excitement, apprehension, and anticipation. Minseon’s responding smile in particular seems especially tremulous, and she waves Jungdae ahead as she fiddles with the strap of her duffel bag. Jungdae and Baekhee skip out of the room, seemingly racing each other.

“How do they have so much energy?” Junhee wonders, laughing a little in exasperated fondness. Minseon laughs with her, but it sounds strained. 

“What’s wrong, Minseon?”

The idol hesitates. “What if...what if they don’t like me?” Her voice is all but a whisper. 

Junhee wraps her arms around her broad shoulders, toned from hours upon countless hours of dance and physical activity. “If they don’t, they’re missing out,” Junhee says firmly. “Normally, I’d say that everyone is entitled to their own opinion or whatever, but if they don’t like you, then they’re objectively _wrong,”_ Junhee sniffs overly dramatically, hoping to draw a smile out of Minseon. She’s semi-successful; the idol looks up at her with a smile, albeit somewhat weak and watery, but her eyes are shining with gratefulness. 

“Go rest up,” Junhee says, giving her one last squeeze. In the back of her mind, she registers with some awe that those fluffy sweaters really cover up a whole lot of muscle and power, unexpected for her small frame. “I’m sure Jungdae’s waiting for you.” 

Junhee smiles at Minseon’s quickly retreating back. She’s willing to bet her next paycheck that those girls are going to make it big, with their talent and endearing personalities. 

What could go wrong?

\--

Apparently, a lot could. Junhee pulls at her hair in frustration. What is it about girl groups that attract so much hate, especially from other girls?

Mere hours after CBX’s debut single, Blooming Days, dropped, they were already within the top ten. Junhee was ready to pop the champagne, congratulating the girls on a successful debut, fondly thinking of the multitudes of Xingmis who were ready to support Zhang PD’s latest project group. There was a lot of anticipation for CBX, and the girls did not disappoint.

Unfortunately, Junhee celebrated too soon. All it took was one malicious comment for everything to come crumbling down. 

_I heard that Chen and Xiumin were dating. Who let these fags onstage?_

Suddenly, rather than headlines screaming GIRL GROUP CBX MAKES STUNNING DEBUT WITH BLOOMING DAYS, Junhee found herself face to face with ROOKIES CHEN AND XIUMIN OF CBX IN A GAY SCANDAL?

“It’s not a _scandal,”_ Junhee gripes angrily at her computer. “They’re in _love._ ” She slams her laptop shut with perhaps a bit too much force, striding off to find the girls. She finds them in a huddle on the floor of their practice room, Minseon and Jungdae staring at a small screen in traumatized horror. Baekhee is draped over them, as if trying to wrap her small body around two other girls in a giant hug. 

They don’t even notice her walk in. Junhee strides up to them and plucks the phone from Jungdae’s hand, who jumps in shock. “You are all banned from looking at the comments,” Junhee announces. “You don’t need to be torturing yourself like this.”

“I’m not giving Minseon up,” Jungdae says stubbornly, glaring at Junhee like a kitten just a second away from unleashing her claws, hanging off Minseon’s arm. Minseon tugs at her, but Jungdae holds firm. 

“Of course you’re not,” Junhee agrees. Jungdae sags against Minseon’s side, willpower drained. 

“Unnie, what do we do?” Jungdae asks sadly. “I can’t leave Minseon, but this isn’t exactly how I imagined our debut to go either.” Baekhee hugs her harder, uncharacteristically quiet, lips forming a small pout. 

Junhee sighs, patting Jungdae on the head. She looks so much like the young girl that she actually is, so unlike her usual determined self. “You three go home and rest, and continue being amazing. Tell me, Jungdae, do _you_ feel like you’ve done something wrong?”

The idol straightens up. “Of course not!”

“Then you do what you do best,” Junhee says, “and let us handle the press.” She watches as Jungdae hops up with renewed vigor, dragging Minseon out behind her. Baekhee is hot on their heels, fluttering behind them like a butterfly. 

Junhee smiles, before turning her attention to the confiscated phone in her hands, still opened up to the comment section on CBX’s music video.

_Petition to ban CBX from performing. I don’t want my daughters getting infected by watching them onstage._

_Poor Baekhee! They should just remove Chen and Xiumin and just let her promote solo._

_First day of debut and already a scandal...this must be some kind of record._

Dear lord. Junhee’s got a lot of work to do. 

\--

“Okay, first things first, we need to release a statement…” Junhee mumbles, half to herself and half to the publicity team on the other end of the video conference. 

“Hi babe, still working?” Yifan comes up from behind the couch to drop a kiss on her head. 

Junhee groans. “Yeah,” she mumbles, typing and re-typing rapidly. “How does this sound?” 

Yifan strokes her hair softly. Junhee lets out a strangled screech, allowing herself to lean into her girlfriend’s touch for half a second before returning to the statement that she’s drafting. “Don’t sleep too late, Jun.” She kisses Junhee’s temple before retreating to bed. 

Junhee looks up when she hears her footsteps pad away and sighs, already missing Yifan’s warm presence beside her. 

\--

_Hello, this is Lay Zhang Studio. We have confirmed with Kim Minseon and Kim Jungdae that they are currently dating and have been in a relationship since they were trainees._

_There will be no change in the lineup of CBX. Chen, Xiumin, and Baekhee will continue promotions as scheduled. Furthermore, we will be taking legal action against malicious commentators._

_Please respect the couple’s privacy and continue to support CBX in their future endeavors. Thank you._

Junhee sighs. She’s a little in over her head about the legal side of things, but Lay Zhang Studios is still a small company, so she has to pull extra weight. 

She screenshots the initial comment exposing Minseon and Jungdae’s relationship as well as the comments she had seen before. It makes a pitiful looking compilation, so Junhee sighs, resigning herself to finding more comments. It’s not too difficult — to Junhee’s dismay, the number of homophobic and inflammatory comments have only skyrocketed despite Blooming Day’s steady climbing on the music charts.

_It’s unnatural,_ the comments whisper. _They need help_. The words echo in her head. “Don’t cry, Junhee,” she scolds herself. “Pull yourself together! Jungdae and Minseon need you!” 

_It’s okay, they’re young, they’ll grow out of it at some point. They just have to find the right guy._

Right guy? Junhee snorts. As if she’d ever give up Yifan for a man. She looks over at their closed bedroom door. Yifan is asleep now, headed to bed after making sure Junhee had a nice hot cup of tea and a blanket, telling her not to sleep too late. 

No, Junhee would never trade Yifan for anyone, man or woman, but she does sometimes wish that Yifan was a little more affectionate. Yifan’s an awkward sweetheart, but Junhee has been her girlfriend for five years and her best friend for even longer — by now she would think that Yifan would be comfortable enough with her to at least hold her. Even when they share a bed, Yifan stays steadfastly on her side of the bed, and if they do end up intertwined during the middle of the night, it’s Junhee that’s crept over like an invading vine. 

Junhee wraps the blanket tighter around herself, a shitty substitute for the craving of warmth that no fleece could provide.

\--

Minseon knocks on Junhee’s office door the next day. “Unnie?” She’s gripping her phone in her hands so tightly that her knuckles pop and whiten. 

“Come in,” Junhee invites, smiling at the idol in hopes of easing that deep furrow in her brow. Minseon takes a seat gingerly on the edge of the chair. Junhee gulps inwardly, a tight ball of concern forming in her chest. 

“I uh, was looking through the comments, and I came across this one,” Minseon slides the phone across Junhee’s desk. She picks it up.

_Huh, this Minseon girl looks a lot like a boy I used to know named Kim Minseok. He didn’t have a twin though…_

Junhee frowns. “I don’t understand.”

Minseon’s small hands curl around the armrests. Junhee fears for the plastic. 

“It’s me, unnie. I’m Kim Minseok.” The confession comes out in a whisper, her already thin voice becoming even smaller. 

Oh. That explains a lot, actually.

“You _were_ Kim Minseok,” Junhee says tenderly. “If you want to be Kim Minseon now, you can do that.” 

Minseon nods. “I do.” She’s still speaking quietly, but her declaration is firm. “And I want people to know. I think people might react badly..but it can’t get any worse than our debut, can it?”

\--

Unfortunately, it can.

The backlash nearly doubled mere minutes after Minseon’s handwritten letter was posted, drowning out all the positive comments. Minseon is nearly in tears, and Jungdae refuses to let go of her girlfriend, arms wrapped tightly around Minseon’s shoulders like a koala. 

“There is _nothing_ wrong with you,” Jungdae says, as fierce as ever, but Minseon is gasping too hard to respond. 

“Unnie, breathe,” Baekhee pleads from Minseon’s other side. Her thin arms are draped over Minseon as well, overlapping with Jungdae’s. 

Junhee sends them home early before dropping her head into her hands, feeling utterly useless. 

\--

Junhee wails into her favorite cushion as soon as she gets home. Beyond suing the malicious commenters and posting the company’s statement of support for Minseon and Jungdae, there isn’t much that she can do to ensure the girls’ success. 

Yifan is practicing late again. It feels like ages since Junhee’s seen her. The solitary light in Junhee’s makeshift study flickers and casts a dull yellow glow on everything around her. Junhee is so, so tired. The cursor on her laptop blinks unforgivingly at her. 

_As a girl who’s been dating another girl for five years, I admire and envy Jungdae and Minseon’s relationship. They’re so true to themselves, so unafraid of showing their love to a public that doesn’t support them. I want that kind of love too, unabashed, unashamed. But my girlfriend won’t hold me in public, and has never even said those three words. Despite all the backlash against CBX, can you blame me for wanting to be in their shoes?_

Post Comment. 

Junhee sighs, too caught up in her thoughts to notice the footsteps getting close.

“Jun, are you okay?” Yifan sounds exhausted, and when Junhee turns around, Yifan is barely able to keep her eyes open.

“I’m fine,” she says glumly. The words spill out automatically, but Yifan should know her well enough to know that she doesn’t mean it, right? She never means it. It’s just a defense mechanism. 

Yifan shuffles forward in her fluffy slippers to drop a clumsy kiss on Junhee’s crown. “Good night, then.”

Junhee stares after her retreating back, somewhat in disbelief. 

“I’m _not_ okay,” Junhee whines into the empty air. “I’m so stressed.” 

No response. 

Maybe it’s the stress talking, but Junhee really needs a hug. And a good cry. 

Instead, she sighs, staring at her laptop screen hoping for an answer to fall from the sky. None comes. 

\--

Junhee wakes up with a crick in her neck. Her eyelids are heavy, and vision blearly, but she can tell she’s fallen asleep at her desk. Her laptop screen is dark, and Junhee sits up, pressing on the spacebar to wake it up. A blanket falls off her shoulders and onto the ground.

It’s Yifan’s favorite blanket, the worn down fleece one that makes the couch its permanent home. Yifan refuses to let any of their friends touch it when they come over, pulling Junhee against her as they claim its warmth for themselves. 

Junhee smiles a little as she folds the blanket back up. Yifan always does sweet little gestures like this that make her fall in love with her girlfriend all over again. 

Junhee makes herself a nice cup of hot chocolate. She deserves a lazy Saturday after losing her mind at work. She’s wrapped up in Yifan’s blanket, toes tucked underneath her legs and warm against the couch. The only thing missing is Yifan herself. 

Speak of the devil.

Yifan walks in with a takeout box, clad in a simple hoodie. Even then, with her hair mussed artfully, she looks like a model. 

“Oh, Junhee, you’re up,” Yifan smiles at her, easy and open. “I brought you leftovers from the basketball brunch. We went to your favorite diner.”

Yifan opens the box and the scent of crispy potatoes and bacon waft towards Junhee, whose stomach grumbles noisily in anticipation. 

Junhee flings herself into Yifan’s arms, who had just let go of the takeout, preventing an unfortunate mishap. 

“I love you,” Junhee smiles broadly at her girlfriend. Yifan flushes at the direct eye contact. 

“I, um,” Yifan fumbles. The hope swells in Junhee’s chest like a balloon, rising and expanding until it feels like Junhee can barely breathe. Is Yifan finally going to say those three words?

It’s all Junhee wants. She’s waited so long for this moment. 

Yifan clears her throat. “I’m glad you’re happy.” She gently places one giant palm on Junhee’s hair, but Junhee can’t even appreciate the warmth of her palm like she usually does.

That’s it?

The balloon bursts, filling her veins with disappointment that feels like liquid lead, settling in the pit of her stomach. Junhee wants to punch something, wants to vent her anger out. But the only thing in front of her is Yifan, looking too adorably confused at Junhee’s sudden silence, at her abrupt mood change, and despite how _furious_ Junhee is, she could never hurt Yifan. Instead, burning tears fill her eyes, and she swipes at them violently. 

“What’s the problem, Junhee?” Yifan’s voice is alarmed. 

“ _You_ are!” Junhee shrieks. Junhee wants to push Yifan away, kicking and screaming. Her hands come up to fist in the fabric of Yifan’s hoodie, but her hands pull Yifan closer instead. 

“You hate me, don’t you?” Junhee accuses wildly. More tears follow the ones she brushed away before, faster and hotter, until she doesn’t even try to dry her face anymore. “Why don’t you love me?” 

“Junhee, please—”

But Junhee’s mouth is running on autopilot, built up from weeks of stress and insecurity and longing. 

“You’re embarrassed to hold my hand in public, you don’t notice when I’m upset, _you don’t love me.”_ Through her blurry vision, Junhee vaguely registers Yifan shaking her head frantically. 

“I don’t want to be forcing you into this relationship,” Junhee continues. Where are these words coming from? “I don’t want to be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t love me.” Her mouth is spewing coherent sentences that still don’t make sense to her. “Yifan, let’s break up.”

Junhee’s mind finally catches up with her runaway mouth, replaying the sentences that spewed out with her tears. She snaps her jaw shut, teeth clicking together audibly. 

Yifan is staring at her with what looks like horror. She’s frozen now. Junhee waits. Yifan says nothing.

“Say it,” Junhee chants inside her mind. “Say that you don’t want me to leave.” 

Yifan does none of the sort. Instead, she swallows visibly, almost painfully. Her voice is a mere whisper. “Is that really what you want?” Her eyes are sad, screaming something at Junhee. Junhee doesn’t know what they’re saying. 

Junhee nods. “Yes.” _No._ The word comes out unnecessarily firm, considering Junhee is screaming the opposite in her mind. _I don’t mean it, Yifan. Call me out._

Yifan nods as well, a tiny dip of her head. “Well, Junhee. If that’s what you really want.” With one last glance at Junhee, she pivots on her foot and walks out the front door. Junhee watches the door close softly, quietly, but in the dead silence of Junhee’s apartment, the click is almost ominous. Junhee sits on the floor, right on the kitchen floor, and cries.

The bacon and fries are no longer appetizing. 

  
  


Junhee tries to learn how to live without Yifan. 

But it’s hard — having known her for so long, Junhee can no longer remember a time when Yifan wasn’t in her life, when Yifan’s gummy smile wasn’t available to her at all times. Before they were girlfriends, they were best friends. Before they were best friends, they were neighbors. 

Yifan told her that Junhee could keep the apartment, since Yifan’s teammate had been looking for a roommate. But the single bedroom apartment is far too big for Junhee alone, far too empty without Yifan. There’s too much space in the bed, the couch looks sad and bare without Yifan’s mismatched blanket, there are way too many empty shoe racks devoid of Yifan’s sneakers. 

But at the same time, an empty apartment would hurt less. An empty apartment would mean that Junhee would have no expectations, that she could just move her own things out from where they’re all crammed into the closet, never seeing the light of day. No, Junhee’s problem is that the apartment is too _full —_ too full of Yifan’s memory. Of course Junhee can’t put her favorite clubbing heels on that rack — that’s where Yifan’s favorite sneakers go, the white ones that she wears as long as she doesn’t have practice to scuff them up. Junhee’s even seen Yifan wear a dress with those sneakers. Yifan would be so offended if Junhee put her heels there.

Junhee sighs. She’s being ridiculous. Yifan’s not even here. She would never know. 

Still though, Junhee puts her heels back into the closet. It wouldn't feel right to take Yifan’s spot, anyway. 

Junhee looks at the time and curses. She’s late to work. Junhee jams her feet into her shoes and tucks a piece of toast in her mouth before heading out the door. Neither Junhee nor Yifan have ever really liked toast, but bacon and fries are ruined for Junhee now. Sometimes in her dreams, she can still smell the nauseating scent of bacon grease, along with a deep sense of despair, and she wakes up with tears in her eyes every time. 

Jungdae and Baekhee greet Junhee at work, bright as usual. As planned, they’re preparing for their next track almost immediately after Blooming Days promotions ended, to keep them relevant, trying their best to push past the negativity. Minseon smiles sweetly at Junhee, pulling her girlfriend away when it seems like Jungdae’s loud voice is penetrating through Junhee’s perpetual migraine. 

Only Minseon seemed to have noticed anything different about Junhee after the breakup. It’s only been three weeks since Yifan walked out of her life, but her sense of time passing is muddled and inconsistent. It’s already been three weeks, nearly an entire month. One month without Yifan. 

But what’s one month compared to nine years of loving Yifan? Life goes on, Junhee does her job, but she’s still living in the past. One month can’t erase a decade of feelings. 

Minseon had looked devastated when Junhee confided to her about her breakup. They had gotten quite close, bonding over their shared love for dad jokes and exasperated fondness for Baekhee and Jungdae’s noisiness. “I don’t know Yifan personally,” Minseon had said, “but I do know that you two were a good couple.” 

“I thought so too,” Junhee had sighed. “I wish Yifan saw it the same way.”

“Are you upset?”

“At her?” Junhee had to stop to consider. “Not particularly, I guess. I just feel...sorry? It felt like I forced my way into a relationship with her, and she was too nice to say no.” Junhee thought back to how she had drunk-babbled her confession on the night of her own birthday, how she clung to Yifan, how she expected too much — more than Yifan was willing to give. “I just miss her. She was my best friend, before anything else.” 

Minseon had just smiled softly. “I understand.” She had looked at Jungdae then, clear adoration softening her face. 

Not for the first time, a twinge of envy had rushed through Junhee. Now, as Junhee watches Jungdae leap into Minseon’s arms, a bittersweet feeling courses through her veins. Her gaze falls to the lockscreen she couldn’t bear to change, and Yifan’s smiling face gazes back at her, innocent and happy. Junhee closes her eyes, trying to reel in her emotions before she does something stupid.

\--

Kyungsoo narrows his eyes at Junhee. “So, what’s up?”

Junhee blinks innocently at the basketball coach. “What do you mean? I can’t grab coffee with a friend?”

“Junhee, you’re a very good friend, but I don’t think we’ve ever met up with just the two of us,” Kyungsoo points out, quite accurately. Yifan has always been there with them, since she’s how Junhee met Kyungsoo anyway. Yifan quickly grew close to her tiny, no-nonsense coach. He’s a very good coach, despite his short stature and his old-fashioned choice of sweaters that make him look more like a grumpy professor than an athlete, but the man is quite capable. Yifan had quickly deemed him her favorite coach of all time, and had refused to let him switch teams. His good judgement and level-headed thinking makes him an invaluable asset. 

It’s this good judgement that leads to Junhee’s rapid exposure of her ulterior motives. 

“There’s a first time for everything, right?” Junhee offers weakly, one last shot at trying to fool Kyungsoo. She fiddles with the empty sugar packet wrapper. 

“Does this have anything to do with why Yifan’s been off all month?”

“Of course not,” Junhee replies automatically. “...Yifan’s been off?”

“Yeah, she’s like twice as clumsy as she usually is and keeps missing the easiest shots. It’s like she’s a zombie.”

“She hasn’t hurt herself, has she?” She can’t help the worry that creeps into her voice. 

“No,” Kyungsoo assures. “But what kind of fight did you get into that you still haven’t made up from? You’ve never had a month-long argument, ever — I figured you two couldn’t even physically be away from each other for that long.” He takes a long sip of coffee, as if to emphasize his point. 

Junhee blinks in surprise. “We’re not arguing, we broke up.” Though she tries to sound direct and matter of fact, her voice cracks embarrassingly. She gulps down a mouthful of coffee to clear the lump in her throat. It nearly sears her tongue. It’s too hot. It’s too bitter. She adds another packet of sugar. 

“ _How?”_

“What do you mean how?” Junhee says, defensive. “People break up. It happens.” 

“Not people like you and Yifan.” Kyungsoo waves a hand around abstractly. “You’re like, sickeningly in love with each other.”

Junhee can’t help but purse her lips into a pout. “Yifan’s not in love with me.” 

Kyungsoo chokes on his coffee. It’s not a very pretty sight, the dark liquid trickling out of his lips and dripping onto his sweater. He swipes at it with a napkin, still hacking, and Junhee thumps him on the back. 

“Yifan? Not in love with you?” Kyungsoo says when he finally catches his breath, words still coming out strangled. “You must be kidding me.”

“Well, she’s never said it to me.” 

Kyungsoo just stares blankly at her. Junhee doesn’t know what she said, but Kyungsoo’s eyes are wide and boring straight into her soul, stripping her down. Junhee is mildly uncomfortable. 

The coach releases a long-suffering sigh, taking off his glasses to rub at his forehead. When he speaks, he sounds very tired.

“Junhee, since when were _words_ the only way to communicate something?”

Kyungsoo’s exasperated glare is enough to convince her that he’s right. 

\--

Junhee stares at the blinking cursor on her phone screen. She still hasn’t deleted Yifan’s number off her contacts, but in all honesty it would be entirely pointless — she’s had Yifan’s number memorized since she was fifteen, the first time she got a phone. 

Her finger hovers above the little arrow. She closes her eyes. _Send._

_Hi Yifan. This is Junhee. You got a package. Should I drop it off?_

Junhee cringes. That’s probably the stiffest text message she’s ever sent in her life. She resists the urge to chuck her phone across the room — one year ago today, she was texting Yifan giddy, enthusiastic texts celebrating their fifth year anniversary. Suddenly, Junhee is struck with the realization that this year, there won’t be a sixth. 

Almost immediately, her cell phone buzzes. 

_I know. I never deleted your contact, after all._ A second message appears with a pop. _You can open the package. It’s meant for you, after all. Happy sixth anniversary, Junhee._

Junhee sets down her phone and takes the small brown package into hand. It’s an innocuous little package, but wetness blurs her vision anyway. She tries not once, not twice, but three times before she can see clearly enough to rip the tape off the box, and it unfolds cleanly. Nestled inside the bubble wrap is a small velvet jewelry box. She opens it with trembling fingers.

A small crystal bunny pendant twinkles at her. A familiar sight. 

Junhee had once texted a picture of this exact pendant to Yifan, with the caption, _I’d name it Byul if I ever bought this!!_ Yifan had never responded, and Junhee had moved on to a different topic. 

She didn’t even realize Yifan was paying attention. 

A text that she hadn’t noticed earlier is waiting for her when she picks up her phone. _I hope Byul is to your liking._

_Come over,_ Junhee writes. _I have a present for you too._

\--

Junhee stares. Yifan stares back. 

Having Yifan there on the couch, her sneakers thrown onto the rack that Junhee’s kept empty all this time, it’s like she never left. 

Yifan seems content to just watch Junhee, but Junhee is about to burst at the seams. 

“I thought you loved me,” Junhee blurts. 

Well, that wasn’t how this conversation was supposed to go. 

There’s a crease in Yifan’s forehead between her eyes, and she’s frowning the tiniest bit, so that her lips just out in a pout. Junhee hates that she’s still so in love with her, still wants to kiss those pink lips. 

“I...do,” Yifan says slowly. She looks confused. “I never stopped?”

Junhee’s heart stutters. “What do you mean? You let me break up with you?”

Yifan’s face contorts even more, fierce eyebrows drawing even closer together. If Junhee didn’t know any better, she would say that Yifan looks furious, but in fact, that’s just her confused face. It’s unnervingly endearing to Junhee, despite their circumstances. 

“You wanted to break up,” Yifan says, like it was obvious. “If that’s what you wanted, then who am I to deny you?” 

“Because you didn’t love me!” Junhee cries. “How could I ask you to stay in a relationship with me if you didn’t love me? You didn’t even try to stop me?” 

Yifan looks at her like she’s insane. “Who told you that I didn’t love you?” 

“Well,” Junhee bites her lip. “You...never said it?” Suddenly, Kyungsoo’s words start to make a lot of sense. 

Yifan suddenly flushes bright red. She mumbles her next words. “I just..am not used to saying the words out loud. I tried to show you...how I felt, instead.” 

The disaster of a dinner. The blanket. The pendant. The pieces start falling into place. 

“I am starting to see that now,” Junhee whispers. Yifan pulls her against her chest. Instinctively, Junhee melts against the taller girl, pressing her nose against Yifan’s shirt, inhaling the comforting scent for the first time in many long weeks. “Sorry for freaking out.”

Yifan squeezes her gently. “Sorry for making you insecure.” She clears her throat, a nervous tick. “I love you more than you know, Junhee,” she rasps. Despite having extremely limited vision while buried in Yifan’s chest, she can feel her girlfriend’s neck grow warm. Junhee giggles, a little giddy, as she imagines Yifan’s ears flushing tomato red. 

“I love you too, Yifan.” 

“I know you probably have a physical gift for me, but this is the best anniversary gift you could’ve gotten me,” Yifan says, resting her chin on top of Junhee’s head.

Junhee gasps, sitting up straight, and knocking straight into Yifan’s chin. Yifan curses loudly, pulling away.

“Your gift!” Though Junhee scrambles frantically for the little box hidden between the couch cushions, she privately agrees. The sight of Yifan, laughing and rubbing at her jaw and looking at Junhee with all the love in her gaze, is undoubtedly Junhee’s favorite anniversary gift of all. 

\--

“You look happy,” Minseon observes. The girl group member is taking a break from dance practice, sweat slicking through her hair. It’s grown out a lot more now, almost down to her waist, and she looks happier, more comfortable in her own skin. Jungdae is play-wrestling with Baekhee on the floor, as energetic as ever. 

“You do too,” Junhee says. Minseon hums, fingering the woven white, pink, and blue bracelet around her wrist, one of her first fan gifts. Junhee thumbs the bunny around her neck. 

“Yeah,” Minseon says softly. Jungdae looks up at that moment and smiles at them, bright and easy. “I am happy.”   
  



End file.
